Sharing the Sniffles
by FanficAddictGal
Summary: Follow up to Bless You fanfic. Clark feels a little less super after Lois recovers from her cold.


All rights belong to their respective owners. I just borrowed! :)

 **Sharing the Sniffles**

 **A Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman Fanfic**

Lois Lane picked up the remaining tissues from the floor and flung them into the wastebasket with a grin.

After three and a half miserable days in bed, she had finally been given the go-ahead to leave her bedroom prison by Clark. She was reveling in the small achievement!

However, in a way she was sorry she was better. She could easily have gotten used to the undivided attention; pillowed up against Clark's chest on the sofa watching mindless cartoons, feeling his cool, soft fingers on her forehead, and falling asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

He really had been considerate. Maybe someday she would be able to repay the favor. However, with him being who he was, she knew that occasion would be unlikely.

Pulling her suit jacket from the closet, her eyes caught the red shimmer of his cape. He was Superman; the Man of Steel. He was practically indestructible. That he would catch your common, every-day cold was laughable.

She looked at the bottle of sludgy looking cough syrup on the nightstand and laughed in triumph. She couldn't help but stick her tongue out at the offending container. "I'm through with you!" she declared. Then, throwing her nose into the hair, she waltzed out of the room and began to descend the stairs.

Finally! Out of her imprisonment at last! She was sniffle-free and the reporter in her couldn't wait to get back to work.

She heard the pop of the toaster and upon entering their kitchen caught sight of her husband buttering toast. Two plates sat at the counter, each covered with eggs, sausage and an assortment of cut fruit. He had made them breakfast, and despite the fact that he could have done it all in under three seconds, he had instead chosen to do it the old-fashioned way: by hand. The gesture was thoughtful and Lois felt her heart melt. For a farmboy, he sure knew how to please.

Hearing her walk in, Clark turned and gave her a full smile.

"Hope you are hungry."

"Umm," she replied, strolling over to him, sliding her arms around his waist. "Starving."

"Good," he said. He placed a hand on hers. "Because breakfast is ready."

A quick peck on her cheek and she was ushered to the table. "Milady?"

Clark set the still steaming plate in front of her and Lois brought a forkful of grape slices and strawberries to her lips. He waited silently for her verdict. She gave an exaggerated sigh of pleasure. "Delicious."

As Clark went to retrieve his plate, Lois glanced at the newspaper. Senator Matthews giving up her office? When had that happened? Realizing she was obviously a few days behind on the news, she looked up a little.

"So what's on the agenda for today honey?" The question was asked around a bite of toast. Not receiving an immediate response she tried again. "Clark?"

All of the sudden, the plate Clark had been holding fell to the floor with a thunderous crash. The pieces skid everywhere and Lois instinctively lifted her nylonned feet up. Turning to her husband, she saw him clinging to the corner of the island, a hand pressed to his forehead.

Now she was worried. Usually, he would be apologizing profusely right about now. She tiptoed quickly around the shattered fragments of ceramic and reached out a tentative hand, "Clark?"

She saw him shake his head slowly as if he was just waking up. His hand rubbed at his eyes and when they met hers, they looked like they were having trouble focusing. Besides his light flush, his face was absolutely white.

"Clark? You okay?"

"Lois?" he whispered. "I'm sorry…"

She put a finger to his lips to silence the unneeded apology. "No. It's fine." It was then that she noticed he had removed his death-like grip on the countertop and though he seemed no worse for wear, the granite had unfortunately borne the brunt of the damage. Pieces of it clunked to the hardwood, a light dust covering the patch where her husband stood.

She saw his face fall when he took in the wound, but her mind drifted elsewhere.

"What happened?"

Clark looked at her and sighed, "I just got a little dizzy." She saw him sway slightly and placed a hand to his side. "Clark?"

He laid an arm around her shoulders, a hand coming up to massage his temple. She swallowed back the panic threatening to choke her, trying to subdue the crazy thoughts racing through her worried brain. What was wrong?

Clark's eyelids quickly shut and his face clenched in…pain? "Uhhhh," the groan was low and long. After a moment, his muscles relaxed. "And…" he grunted, "I believe I'm getting a headache."

"A headache? But… how?"

"I don't know," Clark replied. Lois pulled out one of the dining room chairs and he fell into it gratefully, "All I know is, I was fine a few minutes ago and then…" Noticing he was tensing up again, she sank into the chair next to him and grabbed his hand. Despite the pain he was in, the pressure to her palm was minimal.

"I'll call Perry. Tell him you won't be in today, and neither will I for that matter."

"No, Lois. I'm fine," Clark said, but the excuse sounded lame even to his own ears.

"You're Superman," Lois whispered. An echoing dial-tone rang in her ear as she picked up the phone from the hook. "And I believe a dizzy spell and a sudden headache are reason for concern, don't you?"

Catching Perry White's voice on the other end, Lois rushed through his seemingly endless questions. Being the Daily Planet's two top reporters, it was little wonder he was concerned. "Hey Perry, its Lois… Sorry, but Clark and I won't be able to make it in today…Yah…he must of caught it from me… well, it came on pretty quick (he really had no idea)… Yes… I'll let you know if he improves… I'll make sure to tell him." The conversation ended with a resounding click.

"Perry says to take it easy for the next few days and hopes you feel better soon. Apparently almost half the office is out on sick leave."

Gazing into her spouse's eyes, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear. Clark caught her staring and tried to smile, "I'll be fine honey. Nothing a couple of hours rest won't cure." His tone was reassuring and soft.

"Mmm mmm," Lois replied half-heartedly, opting for a stern stance similar to her husband's alter ego. A light bulb went on somewhere in her brain and her head rose so fast she could have given herself whiplash. "You've caught my head-cold."

He looked up puzzled, "What?"

"You caught my head-cold! I wonder why I didn't think of it before! It's so simple! I mean, you were basically in the same room with me the entire time I was sick and I… I kissed you…a lot!"

"Lois, that's impossible," Clark interrupted gently. He reached for her fingers and gave them a comforting squeeze. "I've been around you before when you weren't totally healthy and never felt the effects."

She put up both hands to halt him. "Just hold on a second. I'm on a roll here." She marched back over to where he sat. "Think about it…it makes complete sense! Normally you wouldn't be affected, but you are still recovering from your brush with the Red Kryptonite. I know it sounds a little crazy, given who you are and everything but… could the exposure have left you a bit more susceptible, maybe a little less 'super'?"

"Honey, I don't think…" he paused for a moment. She thought she saw his nose twitch. "I …" he inhaled sharply and, bringing his hand to his mouth, sneezed.

A tissue was handed in his direction within seconds. "You were saying, honey?" The endearment was said with her trademark snort. Clark sat mute.

"Now, as far as I know," she paused to smile smugly, "Superman doesn't sneeze. So…if there are no further arguments, I want you to get right back into that bed and cover yourself up. I'll be up in a moment to check your temperature."

She gave him a not so subtle nudge in the right direction and then got out the dustpan. First things first. After dumping the pieces of broken plate into the trash, Lois fished out the tea kettle. Something told her he was going to like some tea.

An hour later, Lois came down with the empty tray and a shattered thermometer. He was definitely fighting a fever. Still, even though her husband had only suffered one sick day since she had known him, he was anything but a whiny patient. He lay perfectly still when she stuck the thermometer under his tongue, and even joked around a little when she tucked him back into bed after adjusting the sheets. Except for the occasional groan, which in her opinion was completely normal and acceptable, he had been wonderful.

They had called his parents back in Smallville and though Martha and Jonathan had offered to come on the next available flight, Lois had assured them that it wasn't necessary. Imitating Clark, who sat next to her, listening with half an ear to the conversation, she told them that "it was nothing a few hours rest wouldn't cure." The scowl and exaggerated growl he awarded her with had been priceless.

She walked back up the stairs to the bedroom to the sound of coughing. Clark was sitting up in bed, a hand to his lips, while his body shook with the effort. It seemed he had indeed caught her head-cold, but somehow a more virulent strain. What she had experienced the last few days was nothing to what he was suffering under now.

He collapsed back onto the pillows, exhausted and she placed a cold washcloth on his feverish forehead. "Looooiissss?" The voice was raspy and thick with sleep.

"I'm here Clark. I'm here. How you feeling?"

She watched him mask his face and tapped a finger lightly on his chest, "And don't you dare think about lying to me farmboy."

"In all honesty," he said stifling another coughing fit, "Awful." The word was more of a croak.

"Well, if it helps, it can't last much longer. Dr. Klein confirmed it's nothing but your average, albeit worse cold virus," he patted the empty space next to him and she accepted the invitation gladly, "and as I predicted, it was likely because of your prolonged exposure to the Red Kryptonite. Your system was able to fight it off for a while, but apparently went into overdrive when you came in close physical contact with me when I was sick."

"I'd do it again." Clark winked.

Lois rolled her eyes good-naturedly but could feel her face redden in response. Charmer.

Taking in his flushed cheeks, she realized he already looked a fair amount better since he came up to bed. At least he was healing faster. Thank goodness for his alien immune system.

"I like the red nose," she murmured, accentuating the fact by lightly tapping it and was relieved when her husband chuckled. At least his sense of humor was still in tact.

He shifted in the bed, turning from her slightly. Bringing a Kleenex to his nose, he sneezed. Another two followed shortly in swift succession. Her poor Clark.

She ruffled his hair and helped him settle back down into the pillows.

Pulling the blanket on the foot of the bed up to his shoulders she said, "I should leave so you can get some rest."

However, just as she was about to get up, Clark's hand snaked out from under the covers and pulled her back onto the mattress. She gave a startled "eek" but soon relaxed.

"Stay with me?" her husband asked drowsily, and yet fully awake.

"But…"

"Please." He kissed her arm. Then, moving up to the exposed back of her top, pressed his daring, persuasive lips there as well.

She knew that what he needed was sleep, but she also knew that he would sleep better if she stayed. Besides, even though she wouldn't admit it, she still was a little tired.

"Alright," she consented eagerly, very aware of the sated grin of her patient. She snuck under the covers. "I'd be happy to share the sniffles with you."

She felt more than saw him smile against her hair. He gave a contented yawn. "M'glad."

Then, lulled by the warmth and comforting presence of the woman beside him, Clark Kent fell into a deep, healing sleep.


End file.
